


This Isn't You

by abigaillecters



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: ??? - Freeform, F/M, Smut, hannigail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 16:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigaillecters/pseuds/abigaillecters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>abigail decides to try on hannibal's clothes and finds herself emboldened by the experience. hannibal, however, isn't really falling for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Isn't You

The labels on the clothes in Hannibal’s drawer all have exotic, fabulous names like Prada, Hugo Boss, Valentino, and Yves Saint Laurent. As she runs her hands over the soft red material of a cashmere sweater, two thoughts collide in her mind: how much money Hannibal spends on his wardrobe and how good she thinks she’d look in that particular blood-red cashmere sweater. Listening for signs that Hannibal is still in the kitchen, he is indeed, Abigail shifts out of her jeans and plain black t-shirt. She relishes the feeling of the soft, warm fabric on her skin. Wearing the expensive material makes her feel rich.

She decides that Hannibal should be granted the privilege to be a witness to how good she looks in his sweater. And she does look good. It’s too big for her and it hangs off her shoulders but surprisingly, she makes it work. Her decision to try to seduce Hannibal is not spur of the moment by any means. Abigail has been planning and plotting the perfect time to make her intentions clear to Hannibal for quite awhile and now she finds the opportunity practically gift-wrapped for her.

“Abigail, come into the kitchen please" she hears Hannibal say from downstairs. She nods even though she knows he can’t see her. Her steps on the stairs are light and quiet. Abigail takes a few deep breaths as she walks and her heart is racing but she’s certainly calmer than she thought she would be. “Yes, Dr. Lecter? What is it?" she asks when she finally gets to the kitchen, fingers lingering on the doorway. He freezes in his tracks when he sees her and swallows.

“Is that my-" he says, his voice much quieter than normal.

“Your sweater? Yes" she replies with a monotone.

“Abigail, it’s very rude to borrow someone’s clothing without permission," his words bring a rosy flush to her cheeks and she knows she needs to be brave. She walks over to him slowly, carefully, like a predator approaching it’s prey to make sure that it is in fact dead. He doesn't respond when her arms snake around his neck and her warm lips collide with the cold skin of his cheek. Abigail pulls away for a moment, her lips are pouted and she’s looking at him wide-eyed with a kind of wannabe sultry-ness. Her eyes search his but she finds nothing. She starts to press her body closer to his and still she finds herself empty handed. This is so not going according to plan. But when has anything in recent months gone according to plan? If Abigail is an expert at anything, it’s adapting quickly to new situations.

Hannibal’s hands lie limply at his sides and it makes her chest hurt. “Abigail, what are you doing?" Hannibal asks, a smile beginning to spread from the corners of his lips-and it’s almost as if he’s holding back laughter. When she places his hand on her waist as she looks up at him with something akin to puppy dog eyes he can’t hold back his laughter anymore. Abigail practically leaps away from him and to the other side of the kitchen where she plants her hands firmly on the edge of the counter and tries to blink back tears.

“And just what, pray tell, is so funny?" she asks, her voice all seriousness now.

“It’s not that it’s particularly funny but it-" she cuts him off.

“It’s what?!" the edge to her voice excites him a little. 

He eyes her up and down, gestures to the sweater barely clinging to her pale shoulders. "This isn't you, Abigail. You don't need to do all this if you would like to seduce me. You need not try so hard my dear," he walks over to the counter next to her and places his hand on her cheek. Moving her hair behind her shoulder he bends down to kiss her collarbone.

"Dr. Lect-"

"Hannibal, please" he interjects.

"Hannibal. So exactly are you saying?"

"What I am trying to say is that you just need to be Abigail Hobbs in order to seduce me." With that utterance, Abigail smiles. It's not one of her usual tight lipped smiles, it's real. Her lips part to reveal two rows of shining, perfect teeth. He takes her face in his hands and she kisses him the way she's wanted to kiss him for months. His lips are warm and inviting and she feels safe with him. As the kiss grows deeper, Hannibal and Abigail slowly sink down onto the kitchen floor. It's cold and it's hard but neither seems to care very much. There's a flurry of tongues and lips and teeth and hands on skin and clothes. Hannibal makes Abigail keep his red sweater on but she removes the black lacy bra and matching underwear she'd worn for the occasion. He hovers over her and let's his lips wander up and down her body. If she didn't know any better, she'd think he was honoring her. He moves down her body to kiss in between her thighs and then her cunt. She tastes nice to him and he can't help but wish they'd done this a lot sooner.

When he enters her, she pulls him to her with such force that he can feel the strain on his muscle. The normally composed, elegant man is disheveled and sweating and fucking the girl whose life he had saved months earlier."This is who you are" Hannibal says, in between kisses.

"Hmm?" Abigail's fingers are entwined in his hair and her legs are wrapped around his waist.

"You're mine" he replies. And with that they start moving together. It's hard to tell where her body ends and hers begins. Hannibal let's Abigail come first. He cares more about her pleasure than his own. The sound of their bodies meeting turns Hannibal on almost as much as the way his name sounds coming from Abigail's lips. "Mine" he whispers into Abigail's hair as he comes. They collapse against each other, exhausted. They lie on the uncomfortable kitchen floor for an uncertain amount of time; Abigail still wears the red sweater.

Abigail is the one to break the not uncomfortable silence. "Why didn't we do this earlier?"

"I was asking myself that same question" his lips spread into a small smile.

"What do we do now?" Abigail asks quietly, her hands tracing small circles on Hannibal's bare chest. He doesn't know what to say to her because he honestly doesn't know what will happen to them either. Instead of answering her question, he simply kisses her lips and tells her she can keep the red sweater. She puts it into a drawer and never wears it again. It isn't her.

**Author's Note:**

> prompted by steph on tumblr (she gives some of the best hannigail prompts tbqh)


End file.
